


Same Time, Same Place

by LabMem004



Series: Once More [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: During Canon, F/M, Levi Ackerman Swears, Levi-centric (Shingeki no Kyojin), Mild Sexual Content, Pining, Pre-Canon, Romance, Sexual Tension, Suggestive Themes, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LabMem004/pseuds/LabMem004
Summary: For a while now, Levi's thoughts have been occupied with something other than freedom, cleaning, and tea.It's messy, and it pisses him off.[One-shot scenes and thoughts from Levi's POV throughout the main work in this series: Once More, with Feeling]
Relationships: Levi & Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Once More [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153295
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36





	1. Of Tea and Messes

**Author's Note:**

> I did this because I'd been itching to write a few things from Levi's perspective, get into his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter (yes, there will be more excursions into this man's head) is set during Chapters 7 and 8 of the main story from exclusively Nora's POV (as of yet), but who knows; maybe it's entertaining to read about Levi with his mind in the gutter even without any context.  
> Either way, it was a fun challenge to write!

That woman was going to be the death of him.

With a groan, Levi leaned back in his armchair, wiping his hand over his face. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her standing in front of him in that ridiculous getup; shoes, bare legs—one in a splint—wearing nothing but a nightgown with her Survey Corps jacket thrown over hastily. The thick mane of wavy hair barely contained in the sloppy braid, as stubborn and untameable as its owner’s mind, driving him nuts.

Ridiculous.

Just like the round, deep brown eyes in her pale, freckled face, gazing or glaring or gaping at him with single-minded focus, as if he was one of the riddles of their small world she so badly wanted to solve.

There were freckles on her legs, too.

“Fuck,” he murmured. He couldn’t believe the things he had let himself say to her—tie her to her bed? Commenting on her damn eyes? And that insufferable smile, gleeful and provocative at the same time, lighting up her eyes whenever she managed to aggravate him. She succeeded far too often.

Finally, he thought of the way Nora had looked at him after he had patted her head; marvelling, stripped of any of her usual aloofness. Her hair had been surprisingly soft, and he had felt an urge to bury his fingers deeper in the strands.

That woman was going to be the death of him.

## #

The glass in his hand was spotted and dull from years of use and insufficient polishing. Levi took a sip of his pint regardless, not even scrunching up his face a little bit. Disgusting, as expected. Maybe he should have ordered something stronger than beer today, though it likely wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

Nora was particularly jumpy this evening, and part of him regretted that he had taken a chair beside her. Off-duty as they all were tonight, she was wearing a short-sleeved dress that was fitted at her slender waist, accentuating the subtle curves on her small frame. Her long hair was spilling down freely over her chest.

She couldn’t seem to sit still, flinching every time she so much as grazed his side. No matter how light or accidental the touch. It was impossible to ignore, and it was fucking annoying. Not long, and Levi had enough.

“Dammit, would you stop fidgeting for one minute?”

To his surprise, she complied without opposition.

It got better after that, and worse. As the night dragged on, the booze seemed to remove some of the tension from Nora. She was always on edge, in her own, contained way—Levi was sure most didn’t notice this about her. He could see it, though, even feel it exacerbating his own high-strung state; another thing vexing him about her.

So, it came as a respite—an entertaining one, at that—to see her at ease for once.

On the other hand, her thigh pressed against his under the table, the heat palpable through his trousers, didn’t do shit to help him relax.

## #

Nora was staring at the box of tea he had thrusted into her hands in utter disbelief.

“Why?” she asked.

“Are you an idiot?” Was she really asking why he would give her a little something for her birthday? Levi felt the answer was obvious, and no way in hell would he spell it out for her, or even for himself.

He was aware he should probably go. Instead, he was looking at her face far longer than was excusable. Her complexion would have been even paler than his if not for the faint rose colour dusting her cheeks, some times more pronounced than others, like now. The freckles sprinkled over her skin were most concentrated over the stretch of her nose to her cheekbones, the widest part of her face.

When she thanked him, her voice barely more than a murmur, he had to look away, unsure what she would find in his expression otherwise.

Probably nothing but irritation at himself, but still.

His name on her lips as she bid him goodnight—unexpected, new, and outright sensual to his ears—produced a flood of unbidden mental images; him devouring those full, rosy lips, fingers in her hair. His hands gliding over the front of the dress she was wearing, bunching up the skirt and lifting her up, pinned between a wall and his body, her legs wrapping around his waist, and he would—

Levi closed the door of his room with more force than intended. He leaned his head back against the cool wood, closed his eyes and took a long breath in through his nose, out through the mouth.

“Fucking idiot,” he said to himself.

Time to take a shower.

## #

He had been minding his business, chewing on his dinner without paying much heed to what he was eating, his gaze occasionally straying to the table where the five hand-picked soldiers making up his squad sat. Eld was saying something, making all of them laugh, and Nora put one hand over her mouth, thumping the other on her chest in an attempt not to choke out her bite.

“When was the last time you’ve had a woman, Levi?” Hange asked out of nowhere, voice clinical.

Now he was having trouble not to choke on his food. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He glared at the woman sitting in front of him, evaluating eyes behind her glasses fixed on him in something akin to scientific curiosity. “Am I asking _you_ when you’ve had your last fuck?”

She chuckled. “No, though it’s been a while, now that you mention it. Besides, it’s not like I’m ogling Moblit.”

“What does that have to do with anything? You can’t be insinuating I’m hot for _Moblit_ —”

“Of course not, silly. I was just drawing a comparison to your situation.”

“If you don’t start making sense soon instead of spouting random shit, I’ll punch you in the face.”

“Good grief, you’re really tense.” At his positively deadly expression, she grinned, waving her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I was asking because you really seem to be in dire need of releasing some steam—”

“If you’re suggesting what I think you are,” he said, nose scrunched up in obvious disgust that would have been insulting if they hadn’t known each other for so long, “let me say right away that I have no interest whatsoever. _Never_ going to happen.”

Hange laughed at him outright, shaking her head. “Not _me_. Nora would be more suitable, since you two so obviously have the hots for each other.”

Levi’s eyes widened for the fraction of a second before he got his expression back under control.

“I don’t want to screw my subordinate,” he said flatly.

“Sure you don’t.” Arms crossed, Hange lounged back in her chair, clearly enjoying herself. “That’s why you keep checking her out.” She raised her eyebrows. “You must have a purely scientific reason for your interest in her secondary sexual characteristics, then.”  
He stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair screeching on the floor. It had been long since Levi had been as immensely pissed off as he was right now.

“Fuck off, Shitty Glasses,” he growled, and left the hall.

## #

“It looks like something exploded in here.” Levi took in Hange’s office. The desk was covered in loose papers, books, and folders; there wasn’t enough space left to put down even one of the cups he had brought, let alone all three of them. Stacks of books were placed on the floor at seemingly random places between the door and the desk where both women sat bent over their research. Nora was engrossed in reading, twirling her hair inadvertently, while Hange was brooding over something she had written down earlier, scratching at her scalp with the pen in her hand.

They both looked up at his arrival.

“How can you work in this shitty mess?” Levi strode over to them, his expression laced with disapproval.

“We need all that stuff, we really can’t afford to miss anything when we’re trying to—wait, is that tea?” Nora was distracted immediately, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the cups Levi was carrying.

“What do you think, idiot? Now clear up that shit so I can put it down.” He nodded at a corner of the desk. She complied eagerly, unfazed by his insult.

“No,” he stopped her when she reached for one of the cups. “This one’s Hange’s.”

“What’s the difference?” Nora narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“He probably spit in that one,” Hange supplied with a grin.

“You are disgusting.” Levi clicked his tongue, part of him already regretting he had come—and not only because of the mess in here. “The difference is that Hange puts a shitload of honey in hers. Plus, she has the blend from the Regiment’s supply, seeing as she wouldn’t even notice the difference. I won’t waste the good stuff on someone like that.”

“A sensible decision.” Grinning broadly, Nora inhaled deeply with her nose over her cup. She always did that before her first sip of tea, he had noticed. Appreciating her favourite drink with all her senses, smell first. Eyes closed, Nora swallowed, savouring the taste. Her tongue flicked out briefly, licking over her upper lip.

“Thanks,” she said, a word she used as sparingly as ‘please’, ‘sorry’, or even ‘hello’. Still more frequently than he did, probably, and when she made use of courtesies, she always did so in earnest.

“I really needed that,” Nora added, and Levi realised he had been staring for too long yet again. He didn’t answer, instead busying himself with his own cup, fingers on the brim. Over the back of his hand, he saw Hange was watching him with a thoughtful expression, nibbling on her pen.

Damn woman knew him too well.

“You know,” she began, a smirk on her lips that didn’t bode well, “In the past, you never used to come bringing tea to my office. I wonder what changed.”

For a split second, his traitorous gaze flickered to the sandy blonde woman at the desk, her long-lashed eyes and undivided attention already back on her reading material.

“Maybe all these years in this loony bin are finally getting to me,” Levi said.

Hange gave him a knowing look. “That must be it.”


	2. Of Blood, Dirt and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'The one good thing about his insomnia was the lack of opportunity for his brain to concoct nightmares. Most of his short bouts of sleep passed in a shallow blur of jumbled thoughts and darkness, and when he opened his eyes again, he was well aware of his surroundings, glad if more than two hours had passed.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during chapters 9 - 11.  
> This one's entirely Levi's thoughts, of his past and present, so... you have been warned.  
> (I hope it's not boring.)

“Your choice, runt,” Kenny said, pushing the knife into his small hand before stepping back. “It’s either them, or you. I sure as fuck won’t save your scrawny ass. Might as well find out right now if you’ve got what it takes. I don’t wanna waste my time.”

Eyes wide, Levi looked back and forth between the four approaching men that were almost twice his size, each of them holding a knife and grinning at their easy prey, and Kenny, watching without interest, arms crossed. The knife in Levi’s hand was shaking violently.

“Pretty little boy,” one of the men said, leering at him, his rotten teeth on full display, “Might fetch a nice sum. Supposed there’s anything left when I’m done with him.”

“He took food from us, might as well pay for it,” another added, cackling.

_Scum_. They were the worst kind of scum, worse than him, even. And Kenny would watch them killing him, or worse. Would he laugh at him, or be disappointed? Would he even care?

The men came at him, all at once, and Levi’s mind went blank. He wasn’t afraid anymore, the tears that had been threatening to spill a second ago dissolving into nothingness. Instead, there was only this moment, and knowledge, sharp and crystal-clear, coming from a place deep within him, flowing through his head and every inch of his body.

Knowledge of what exactly had to be done, and how. Knowledge that he could.

The only feeling left was rage, not hot and bright and overwhelming, but cold and hard as steel.

Without a sound from his lips, Levi charged, sidestepping the blade of the first man and plunging his knife deep into his throat. Before any of the others had even registered his movement, the man fell to the ground knees first, blood spluttering from his wound, covering his dirty front and spraying on Levi’s face. He didn’t even feel it.

The three men left attacked him between shouts and curses, coordinated now. Levi couldn’t remember a single time one of them managed to even touch him. He evaded and sliced, over and over, severing tendons and cutting off fingers, stabbing one of them right through the heart from his back with a strength no man, let alone a child, should possess. The next man dropped with a huge gash across his neck, so deep another strike would have been enough to sever his head.

The sole surviving member of the group stumbled back with a scream, cradling his mangled right hand in his left. The knife it had held earlier lay forgotten somewhere on the ground. What was left of the hand was a limp piece of meat with five stumps instead of fingers, hanging uselessly from a sliced wrist.

“Monster,” he was screaming, voice shaking as badly as his heavily bleeding body, “You’re a monster! You’re not human!”

Levi let him run. He was standing amidst blood and carnage, and while he knew every single detail that had happened over the course of the last minute, he could not make sense of it. He looked at the scarlet blade in his hand, slick with blood.

It wasn’t shaking, his grip steady.

_Monster_.

He was right where he belonged.

## #

How old had he been, back then? Ten? Eleven?

Did it matter?

He had learned what hunger was before knowing his name. He knew what sex sounded like, from within the darkness of a cupboard, before he was able to understand any of it. By the time his mother had taught him how to read, write and do sums, he knew she was the only person who would ever love him.

When she died, Levi knew he was alone.

_I love you_ , she had whispered through cracked lips before closing her eyes, leaving him forever. It was the last time someone had said those words to him, and the last time he had said them.

Maybe he hadn’t been a monster, then. Or maybe he just hadn’t known yet.

When Kenny came for him, he was barely there anymore, so starved he didn’t feel anything else anymore, numb. He had no tears left, and he hadn’t moved in days.

After the man had fed him, watching him with cold, calculating eyes, Levi wondered if maybe he wasn’t alone, after all. Had the man been one of his mother’s clients? He hadn’t caught sight of them often.

Kenny had eyes just like his, just like his mother’s. They were lacking a certain quality, though, something that had given her eyes warmth and life. No one else in the Underground had eyes like that, without any colour in it. So, Levi once asked if Kenny was his father. The answer was a resounding No emphasised with a fist to his face, splitting his lip and giving him one hell of a nose bleed.

With that, Levi learned he still was alone, just as he thought. Kenny barely tolerated him, threatening to throw him out if he didn’t pull his own weight.

Four or five years later, Levi had lost count of the number of humans he had killed. You couldn’t call them ‘people’, really. Unlike Kenny, he did not smile when he took a life. That was the one difference between the two of them, and he held onto it: one murdered out of enjoyment, the other out of necessity. It made no difference to anyone but himself. He was a piece of trash, yes, but Levi would be damned if he let himself sink as low as them.

He wasn’t quite sure why he never managed to let go of this stupid, useless scrap of humanity left in him. It must be something the love of his mother had instilled in him over the first ten years of his life, the reason why he was plagued with nightmares of all the death he had seen and dealt with his own hands.

Maybe it was just because he was a stubborn bastard, refusing to go against his own, deeply ingrained convictions, refusing to regret. In the years Levi lived with him, Kenny couldn’t talk or beat it out of him, and not for lack of trying. It made his life even harder, but if there was a single thing Levi never doubted about himself, it was the fact that he did not want to be the same as those disgusting pieces of shit. The same as Kenny.

He was alone, so he would live for himself and no one else, on his own terms.

## #

Levi opened his eyes to the first rays of sunlight trickling through the window.

It had been a long, long while ago since he had last dreamed of his childhood, last seen his mother’s face in his sleep.

Twenty years was a long time; enough to forget what someone who had once been your world looked like. When he was awake, he could barely recall his mother’s features, only vaguely remembering eyes shaped and coloured like his, but with a warmth and kindness to them his had never emanated. Same went for the smile she’d permanently worn when she was looking at him.

In his dreams, Levi could see her face clearly, though, his subconscious dragging the memory from some dark, unknown corner of his mind, together with the sound of her voice he thought long forgotten. It was reassuring, even after all this time, and it was fucking torture.

He might dream rarely of his childhood and those formative years with Kenny the Ripper, but the Underground never really left him. The one good thing about his insomnia was the lack of opportunity for his brain to concoct nightmares. Most of his short bouts of sleep passed in a shallow blur of jumbled thoughts and darkness, and when he opened his eyes again, he was well aware of his surroundings, glad if more than two hours had passed.

Still, dreams happened sometimes, just like this night. He’d wake up to the unforgettable stench of the Underground lingering in his nose, the images of humans bleeding out under his hands, the light leaving their eyes as their bodies slackened, the terror on their faces eternalised. Or, he’d wake to the smell of thick, warm blood and the screams of his comrades ringing in his ears as giant, smiling mouths bit down on them. Sometimes, the soldiers wore the faces of a redheaded girl and a young, sandy blond man.

Which reminded him of the new favourite way his own mind had taken on torturing him on the regular. A small, freckled woman, dying a dozen different deaths. Exploding in a burst of blood and innards, head tumbling to the ground, large, dark brown eyes unseeing. Snatched mid-air by a huge set of teeth, swallowed whole. Or crushed between giant hands, like she very nearly had been, that one time. That last scenario had definitely been the first to visit him in his sleep, a recurring scene in his nightmares ever since he had witnessed that particularly close call, unable to intervene in time.

There was one thing every single occurrence of these nightmares had in common. Nora would shout his name, her voice high and desperate, and Levi would watch her die, helplessly, never fast enough to prevent it.

With a deep sigh, he got up, rubbing at his tired eyes. He went to the bathroom to freshen up, lost in thought. Sometime last year, that woman had managed to get under his skin. It was impossible to pinpoint the exact incident, he knew only that it must have happened early, and without him noticing until it was too late.

Was it the first time he had ran into her in the middle of the night, looking up at him from the pages of her book with a stunned expression, her hair spilling down freely in all its glory, as undone as her uniform? She had poured him a cup of tea, then, and he remembered how fun it had been to squabble with her, to watch her every reaction, to be the sole recipient of her sharp wit.

No—that must have been when he first noticed he had a small problem—barely over five feet, to be precise. It must have started earlier, maybe when they’d fought in the stable over her lamentable cleaning and she’d opposed him fearlessly, eyes glimmering with righteous anger, flinging back his every insult.

Most likely, the foundation had been in the works from that very first day when Nora had so insolently stood up to him interrogating her in his office, and earlier, when he’d seen her flying.

So, Levi really couldn’t say when exactly she had gotten under his skin. Only that it hadn’t taken more than a few weeks, and that it had been inevitable from the start.

Unwittingly, she had only dug in deeper and deeper over time, anchoring herself, irreversible. Now, a year later, Levi knew: When the moment came that she was wrested from him, when his nightmares would become reality once again, she would take something of him with her.

## #

He had his first kill years before his first kiss, before he’d first slept with someone.

If that fact alone wasn’t enough to stay away from her, he didn’t know what was.

And yet, here he was, making a mess of everything. But Nora had been so unguarded, saying those things to him, about him, and he’d barely seen her in _days_ ever since the Battle of Trost, and earlier, at the hearing, she’d snuck up behind him and breathed right onto his neck, whispering and grinning furtively as if she, too, had noticed they had never spent this much time apart ever since they knew each other.

Levi had thought his actions today would repulse her, would show her who he was. Everyone else at the tribunal had understood this, after all, watching him with as much hate and fear as respect and awe in their eyes. Not how you’d look at another human being, and he relished it.

It was different with his closest comrades, and Nora, of course, so he had given in to the urge and asked, the uncertainty of what she might be thinking setting his nerves on edge. The way she brushed off his assumptions, matter-of-factly, as if there was nothing more absurd than the notion of her being disgusted by him, was equal parts relieving and frustrating. He had tried to make her see, tried to repel her with the truth, but she was stubborn and steadfast in her believes.

_I know who you are_ , Nora had said, her voice throaty, and the look in her eyes had made his mind run wild with forbidden ideas. He had touched her, because he was an idiot with not as much self-control as he’d thought, and because he’d expected her to finally back off. Instead, she had _leaned in_ , her intent unambiguous, because apparently, she was an even bigger idiot than him. She couldn’t seriously be stupid enough to want him, could she? It must have been the spur of the moment, because he’d taken her by surprise.

Levi had done the sensible thing and made an utter ass of himself, hopefully shutting down that possibility of something he shouldn’t even consider once and for all.

Shit, but after how he’d behaved today, he was sure she’d be _livid_.

He should probably start packing some of his stuff for their departure tomorrow, but instead he was sitting uselessly in his armchair, thinking of Nora’s angry-face with a hard-on that was here to stay. Levi was as honest with himself as with everyone else, so he’d long since admitted to himself that he wanted to fuck her. Badly.

That he really shouldn’t and probably wouldn’t be allowed to, anyways, didn’t keep his shit brain from fantasising about it. He wasn’t above to relieve the tension with his hands, but more often than not, he was so pissed at himself that he’d refuse to give in and got up to clean something, instead. And if that didn’t add a whole new layer of fucked-up to that strange hobby of his.

The other option for distraction was to go take a shower, but that one was largely ineffective. Most of the time, his mind would bombard him with explicit images of Nora, wrapped around him and pressed against the wet tiles, or on her knees before him, her lips doing things to him that—

The point was, he usually ended up making a mess before getting himself clean.

Right now, Levi couldn’t see himself falling asleep if he didn’t take care of the situation in his trousers. He was disgusted with himself, but he had also life-long experience with that feeling, and in this particular case, he never was disgusted enough. Not enough to drive away the fantasies that were torturing him.

So, closing his eyes, fingers making swift work of the buttons on his waistband, he gave in.

## #

After what had happened between them in the mess hall, Levi didn’t know how he’d managed to survive dinner. His lack of expressiveness must have worked in his favour.

And he had thought it was impossible to get even more distracted. That minx, with her smart mouth, sharp tongue, delectable lips, and that damn mass of hair. Asking him what he wanted, in a voice so breathy and suggestive it should be forbidden, shooting right to his groin. As if it wasn’t obvious.

No, it was as much his fault as Nora’s; his fault for continuing to ‘ogle’ her, as Hange had been so kind to point out, ever helpful and nosy. His fault for bringing up anything about her appearance, and definitely his fault for touching her _again_ , for being so fucking pathetic and transparent. Her only fault was going on the offensive, doing to him what he had done to her, first. For reciprocating, instead of pushing him away or kneeing him in the balls.

She really must be an idiot.

Levi had always prided himself on his ability to keep a clear head, no matter what. Even in the worst situations, his focus would narrow, his mind would turn sharp and cold as steel, and he’d think before he’d act, and fast.

Yet somehow, it didn’t take more than Nora getting a bit too close for him to completely lose his head. The moment her breath had graced his skin, his mind had short-circuited. Then, he’d only been occupied with her smell—lavender and tea and something else, emanating from her skin, driving him insane every time they sparred—and with the feel of her petite, hot body all over his, soft lips attacking his neck.

When she’d started to move against him, it had been his undoing. The delicious, small moans and whimpers his administrations elicited had only spurred him on, and he knew he wouldn’t forget the sounds she had made anytime soon.

If she had let him, if they hadn’t been interrupted, Levi would have fucked her against the counter, right then and there.

“Shit,” he murmured in the privacy of his room, dragging his hands over his face, “Shit, shit, fucking hell.”

The mission. They were soldiers, and they had a mission, and if they fucked up, they would die. _She_ would die.

He couldn’t afford to become distracted. He had to focus on what he could do best, the entire purpose of his existence: fighting, for freedom and humanity, and killing their enemies.

There was nothing else in this world for someone like him.


End file.
